


A decent night’s sleep

by Aristophanium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Complete, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristophanium/pseuds/Aristophanium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could feel the angel's presence, he'd been appearing in Dean’s dreams more and more, recently.<br/>“Hello Dean,” Cas said.</p><p>--</p><p>My other story 'After the Fall' has a lot of Dean/Cas tension and I had to let my frustrations out somewhere! Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A decent night’s sleep

Dean knew he was dreaming. There were certain things that gave it away. He was fishing, for one. He never had time to fish in his waking hours. Just waste a whole day sitting on the edge of a wooden pier. He remembered the exact spot from when he was a kid. They’d stayed at a motel not far from here for about a week, maybe two. He and Sam had come down one afternoon and skipped stones across the water. They could see ripples just under the surface when they stones skipped near a fish. They would swim away as quick as they could. They’d talked about going fishing, pulling a big one out of the lake. But there was no fishing rod in the motel room. And their money had already been spent on food, waiting for their Dad to get back from one of his missions so they couldn’t buy bait anyway. It was still a good memory and now he got to fish. For four hours every once in a while.

He felt Cas’s presence before he heard or saw anything. It was like the taste of the air around him suddenly electrified. It didn’t make his hair stand on end, it was more like the buzz you get after ganking a demon or a ghost. Exhilaration rather than fear.

“Hey Cas,” he said, adjusting the rod so it hooked into the drinks holder in the arm of his camp chair before turning to look at the angel.

“Hello Dean,” he said.

Cas looked the same as always. Untidy, dirty trench coat, confused. He’d been appearing in Dean’s dreams more and more, recently. Just popping up to check on him or talk about the stuff they had to do. Like kill the devil or Crowley or whoever it was that week. Once he’d been dreaming about being on a hunt with Cas only to have the real Cas come check up on him. That had been a strange one.

“What’s it gonna take,” said Dean, “for me to get a decent night’s sleep without you dropping in to visit?”

Cas looked surprised, “you don’t want me here?”

“I’d just, I dunno,” he got up out of his chair and stood, facing Cas, “I’d like a little me time once in a while. You know? Just a chance to sit here and maybe catch a fish, meet a nice lady and wake up feeling refreshed for once.”

“You prefer imaginary female companionship when you’re sleeping,” said Cas.

“Well, yeah.”

Cas looked down, crestfallen and Dean felt kinda sorry for the guy. Really, he didn’t mind him dropping in most nights. He liked Cas. Considering how flighty he was during the day, zapping in and out all the time, it was nice to just hang out sometimes. Last week they’d sat on this pier and watched the sun go down together.

“I mean,” Dean stammered, “I like you too but a bit of variety always works.”

Cas huffed and folded his arms.

“Well, it’s not like you and I are going to get it on, is it?” said Dean.

“We could,” said Cas.

Dean furrowed his brow, considering the angel.

“Cas,” he said, “you don’t mean that.” Angels were, for the most part, junkless. They didn’t feel things the way people did. And every time they tried to, every time Cas tried to, it ended up ripping him apart. Doing something, not that Dean swung that way, but say he did, would just confuse Cas. Mess him up.

“I do,” said Cas, taking a step towards Dean. He had a habit of invading Dean’s personal space like this. Dean was actually getting used to it. He glanced down at his lips and back up again, eying him.

Dean grabbed his arms, his heart was pounding.

“Slow down there, soldier.” He said, fighting to keep his voice level.

“Or what,” growled Cas.

“Or I’ll just wake up. Jump off this pier and I’ll be awake as soon as I hit the water. Come on Cas.” He resisted the urge to shake the angel.

Cas grasped one of Dean’s wrists and squeezed, his fingers over Dean’s pulse point.

“You’re heart’s racing, Dean.” Said Cas, “Why?”

“Because you’re,” he hesitated. He wanted to say that Cas was freaking him out. But that wasn’t really true. He felt comfortable being this close to the angel. His heart was beating from excitement. But he couldn’t say that. Cas eyed him quizzically tilting his head slightly. It was that expression that always caught Dean a bit off-guard. He’d never seen anyone else look at him like that. Blue eyes practically searing into his soul. Dean caught himself glancing down at Cas's lips and figured, hey, what the hell. He looked back up at Cas, at his lips, hesitating, as soon as he, well… Cas would see that it was a mistake. What he was asking. He leaned in and their lips pressed together, softly.

Cas's reaction was immediate. He released Dean’s wrist and hooked his hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in close. His lips moved roughly over Dean’s. It was nothing like kissing a girl. No soft breasts between them. Just his chest against Cas’s, his heart practically hammering into the angel’s ribcage. He was restless, he wanted more. He grabbed at Cas’s hips, pulling him closer till his body was locked against his own. Stubble rasping against his lips, the air was practically crackling with the buzzing, electrical presence of the angel. Something deep inside him fluttered wildly when he felt the texture of Cas’s tongue against his lips, he opened his mouth and met it with his own, the rub of their tongues over one another, hot and wet, was better than anything Dean could have imagined but he forced himself to pull back.

He looked into Cas’s pleading eyes. He could see desperation there. His lips were red and wet and too tempting.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough and raw.

Cas nodded vigorously and that’s all Dean needed to hear. was ripping at Cas’s tie, unbuttoning his trenchcoat and kissing him wildly before Cas could so much as take a breath. His entire being wanted Cas closer, wanted more. Like all the pent up tension from the last few weeks, hell, the last few years was finally exploding to the surface. Their hips bumped together sending a shiver through Dean. He was hard like he’d never been in his life.

Getting his shirt open, he pulled him in close, he could feel the angel’s warm skin through his own flimsy plaid shirt. Cas shrugged out of the clothes and cupped Dean’s face, licking into him, working his lips over his cheekbone, fluttering softer kisses on his eyelids and then biting down on his neck.

Dean groaned. Cas ripped his shirt open and bit into his collarbone and the groan went uneven. He shrugged off his own shirt, then reached around Cas to grab his ass. Pulling him in close. They were both so hard. He ground his own erection onto Cas’s and felt the moment the sensation hit Cas’s brain. Cas practically crumpled against him, letting out a low moan, it was the hottest thing Dean had ever heard.

“I can take care of that for you,” he murmured, “do you want me to?”

“Please,” Cas begged.

This had escalated freakin’ fast. But the logical side of Dean’s brain was closed for business. His skin was hot where it touched Cas’s. He pushed Cas away at the hips, just far enough to be able to fumble with his belt, his fly. His lips found Cas’s again and he groaned into them, his fingers brushing over a small damp patch in Cas’s pants as they worked at the fly.

Cas’s fingernails scratched down Dean’s back and then tucked into Dean’s pants. Cas slid his fingers around and then down, palming at his erection through his pants. Dean shivered his mind whiting out for a moment before redoubling his efforts. Finally, he yanked pants and whatever else Cas was wearing underneath them down to his knees. Cas took a step back and tripped, falling backwards. Dean fell with him and they hit the deck of the pier without much impact, one of the advantages of dreaming, Dean guessed.

Cas kicked off his pants and Dean leaned back enough to get at his own belt and fly. Cas reached up helplessly trailing fingers over Dean’s stomach, his blue eyes wide.

“Don’t worry, Cas, I’m going to take care of you, going to make you come so hard.” He was rambling, he didn’t care. His belt was undone, laughing helplessly the ducked down to kiss Cas again, hissing as his fumbling fingers came into contact with Cas’s cock.

His own pants forgotten, he gripped Cas tightly, one hand around his cock, the other on his hip and gave him a few long, good pulls, easy and smooth. Cas’s whole body trembled, almost coming apart under Dean’s fingers, it was beautiful, that he could reduce him to this.

“Steady,” he murmured to Cas, shaking underneath him, “just relax, enjoy it.”

“Dean,” Cas moaned, his voice wrecked.

Dean let go just long enough to get his own pants off, shucking them down to his knees and kicking at them till they were gone.

Sliding back down between Cas’s legs, their cocks came into contact.

“Freakin hell,” Dean groaned, resting his head on Cas’s chest for just a minute, breathing heavily. Cas wrapped a hand around the back of Dean’s head, his fingers carding through his hair. It centered Dean, his breath huffed against Cas’s chest a few times before he lifted his head and his lips claimed Cas’s again. Slowly, Dean started moving against Cas. Their cocks grinding together. The sensation was electric. Dean planted both of his forearms firmly on the ground, either side of Cas, his hands curled in touching the sides of Cas’s face. He was shaking too hard, his body lay heavily along Cas’s. One of Cas’s hands slid up and down Dean’s side, gripping at his ass. Cas ground up against Dean, pulling him down, hard onto him.

“Dean,” he breathed, between kisses, “Dean, I think… Oh, Dean, Dean.”

“Hold on,” murmured Dean, “I’ve got you,”

He opened his eyes long enough to lock gazes with the angel. He saw the orgasm in Cas’s eyes just before Cas’s body started bucking up, his grinding rhythm lost. Cas let out a string of sounds, something in Ennochian Dean guessed, but his brain was too checked out to care.

“Cas,” Dean breathed, grinding against the shuddering, twitching, shaking angel. It didn’t have a right to feel this good. He could feel the sensation reverberating through his entire body. From the tips of his toes, curled tight, to the top of his head. He’d made Cas come undone like this. Dean was grinding against him, slick and wet with Cas’s come, Cas hard and solid underneath him. He grasped at Cas gripping either side of his head, kissing him, pouring all his passion, frustration and desire into him. He came, hard, like a train hitting him. His entire body convulsed, the orgasm shaking him to the core.

He gripped the bedsheets, steadying himself. The orgasm had woken him up. He rolled over, carefully and sat up. Disorientated, the room swam around him as the blood rushed back to his head. The post-orgasm haze settling around him. He was wet and sticky, his come soaking into his boxers and into the bedsheets. He was out of breath, shaking, completely undone. Cas had undone him. He raised a hand to his forehead pressing it against his face as he got his breath back. He could see the sunlight slowly leaking it’s way into the dingy motel room. Sam asleep in the bed on the opposite side of the room. And for the first time in a long while, he felt completely refreshed.


End file.
